


The Bluest Light

by RLamout



Category: Portrait de la jeune fille en feu | Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:33:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23941618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RLamout/pseuds/RLamout
Summary: A (very soft) early morning encounter between Héloïse and Marianne.
Relationships: Héloïse/Marianne (Portrait of a Lady on Fire)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 162





	The Bluest Light

Marianne pads lightly up the staircase of the great house and slips back into her room. The fire has long since dwindled to smoldering and she shuffles silently across the cool floor to attend to the coals. 

She coaxes life from the embers and as the firelight flickers higher, she turns to regard Héloïse curled upon the daybed. Her sheet-covered form is swathed mostly in shadow but for the exposed skin of her cheek and shoulder. Here, she seems to glow blue in the early morning light, the light seeming to radiate from within. 

Marianne moves silently to her side, lifting the sheet as gingerly as possible but Héloïse wakes slowly in response to the dip of the bed and cracks one eye at Marianne as she crawls back under the sheet, settling her head near Héloïse’s on the pillow. She smiles softly, radiantly, and Marianne reaches out to brush back a strand of blonde hair falling across the other woman’s cheek.

Héloïse hums happily as Marianne traces behind her ear and along her neck.  
Still only half awake, she reaches blindly. Her hand bumps Marianne’s hip, searching under the sheet for skin but impeded by a thin layer of fabric.

“Why are you wearing clothes?” She grumbles.

Marianne huffs out a small laugh. Leans forward to kiss below Héloïse’s jaw.

“I needed water. And I did not want to risk surprising Sophie.”

Finally, Héloïse finds the hem of her gown, down along her thigh. Fingers push under and up to rest cupping across the slight sharpness of Marianne’s hipbone. Héloïse brushes her fingertips there until goosebumps rise beneath her touch and grins.

“I cannot imagine she does not know by now what it is that we do together.”

Marianne pulls back from her neck in slight alarm.

“You think she suspects?”

Héloïse lets out a proper snort of laughter.

“I think she must know.” She bites her lip, pushes her gaze up to meet Marianne’s. “You aren’t always exactly quiet.”

Héloïse’s grin widens as Marianne’s cheeks flush and her mouth falls open in a gesture so familiar.

“I-” she blushes, if possible, harder and breaks eye contact, turning her cheek against the pillow. “I always was.”

Héloïse searches for her eyes, clearly not having heard her, muffled as she is by the fabric.

“What?”

Marianne meets her eyes, shyness replaced by a steady gaze. The flush in her cheeks has begun to bloom across her neck.

“Quiet. I always was before now, before you.” Her gaze flickers downwards for an instant before locking again on Héloïse. “In truth, I have not taken many lovers, but it has never felt like this.”

The impact of what has been said hangs between them. Héloïse swallows, blinks rapidly. She seems flustered but pleased with Marianne’s confession.

Coming back to herself, Héloïse replies while reaching forward to brush her thumb across Marianne’s lower lip, down over her chin and across the line of her throat.

“Well,” she leans over Marianne, bringing her lips to her collarbone, her pulse point, takes the lobe of her ear softly between her teeth. Grins as Marianne lets out a gasp. “What about a challenge then?”

“W-what?”

Héloïse’s hand moves to splay down across Marianne’s chest, long fingers spanning the space between her still covered breasts. She licks a slow path down along Marianne’s neck, ending with a soft bite to the slope of her shoulder.

“Shall I test you? You are not one to shy away from a challenge after all.” Héloïse folds one leg over Marianne’s shin, smiles as Marianne shivers against her and raises her gaze to her face.  
Marianne knows the flush of her skin has darkened, she catches herself breathing through her mouth and brings her lips together. She holds still under Héloïse’s gaze until a slight grin curves her lip and she moves to wrap a hand around the other woman’s bicep.

“That is a terrible line.”

Héloïse quirks one eyebrow, levels her stare even more directly at Marianne.

“And you are stalling. Come, let us make a wager.”

Marianne cannot stop the smile that spreads full across her face at Héloïse’s brazenness, at her challenge laid bare. She pushes her hand up over Héloïse’s shoulder, wrapping her fingers around the sharpness of her jaw.

“And if I win?”

Héloïse smiles hungrily, turns her head to bite softly at Marianne’s wrist.

“A reward of your choosing. Anything you desire.” 

Beneath the teasing note, the sincerity in her gaze and in her voice is evident. Marianne tries to construct a pretense of consideration.

“Then I accept.”

Héloïse’s mouth is pressed to hers in an instant, tongue brushing gently against her lower lip. Marianne responds in kind, parting her lips to lick into Héloïse’s mouth, satisfied at the small moan that spills from her throat.

Without warning though, Héloïse’s right thigh slips firmly between her legs as her hand returns to grip harder at Marianne’s hip. Their mouths slip apart, and Marianne must force her lips closed around the moan that threatens to fall from her mouth as Héloïse rolls her hips and pushes the strong plane of her thigh up against her center.

Marianne feels Héloïse’s laugh, a hot rush of breath against her cheek. “Ah, very good. I thought to surprise you, but your fortitude is indeed remarkable.”

She rolls her hips again, softer this time, and pushes her hand up to brace against Marianne’s rib cage. The fabric of Marianne’s shift bunches around her elbow impeding her progress and Héloïse pulls back to kneel above her. Her other hand pushes up the center of Marianne’s chest pulling the fabric even tighter.

“Take this off. Please.” 

Marianne nods quickly and lifts her body to facilitate the removal of her shift.

As soon as she is free, Marianne’s hands move quickly to Héloïse’s hips, drawing her bare body down against her and bringing their lips together once more. Héloïse moans softly against her mouth and pushes her hips forward again, this time far less calculated and more a reflexive search for friction.  
In her haze, Marianne can feel Héloïse’s wetness painted against her own thigh and the thought that neither of them is truly in control-that they are beginning to burn together-spurs her to action. She drags the nails of one hand up Héloïse’s back and cups her shoulder blade, bringing the other hand down to brush low against Héloïse’s abdomen.

Marianne halts as she feels fingers close firmly around her wrist. Héloïse laughs again against her ear, drawing Marianne’s hand up and pinning it to the side.

“That is not part of our game.”

Marianne huffs, pushing up against the pressure exerted on her wrist by the other woman. 

“Héloïse” she means it to sound like a reproach but even she can hear the pleading tone of her voice.

Héloïse takes pity on her. Shifting her weight off to the side she brings her hand to Marianne’s breast, rolling her fingers softly across the pebbled flesh and eliciting a heavy exhalation from Marianne. She dips her head, lips closing around her other nipple and sucking lightly. Mouth still against her breast, Héloïse drags her hand slowly down across the sharpness of Marianne’s ribs, the yielding softness of the plane of her stomach, brings it to rest low on her abdomen, fingers extended to brush against the dark hair there.

Marianne has stopped breathing entirely. Héloïse’s hand falls to cup against the inside of her thigh as she presses a kiss below Marianne’s ear.

“Marianne, you must breathe.”

Two fingers swipe lightly through wet heat and Marianne sucks in a ragged breath. Héloïse repeats the motion with increased purpose, tongue licking against her neck; her fingers quicken, pushing and dragging, lingering, to weave tighter and tighter circles against Marianne’s heated flesh.

Marianne bucks, hips canting up against Héloïse’s hand over and over. She clutches at her forearm, her shoulder, cups at the back of her neck. She breathes shorter and heavier with the effort of keeping silent. Héloïse is relentless and all clear thought abandons Marianne as she feels the heat coiling tighter and tighter, shudders as it rises in her body. She is shaking, tipping closer to her release, dimly aware of Héloïse’s hips pushing blindly against the outside of her hip, of the heat of her breath stirring the fine blonde hairs that curl against Héloïse’s neck.

Héloïse’s fingers dip and press lower, palm grinds against her and Marianne feels the tension break. A sound crawls its way up her throat, she presses her mouth to Héloïse’s shoulder, lips pushed hard to her skin to muffle its escape as she comes.

Marianne is floating, adrift and barely aware of the gentle press of Héloïse’s cheek against her temple, of the weight of one leg bent over her thigh, of the slowing and lightening pressure against her core. She comes slowly back to herself, sweat cooling against her forehead, body buzzing, and wraps her arm around Héloïse’s waist.

She can feel a smile in the kiss Héloïse presses against the corner of her mouth and Marianne sighs as Héloïse kisses her fully, softly but purposefully, both lips molded against her bottom one.  
Héloïse breaks away, pushes damp dark hair off of Marianne’s forehead, rests her own head back against the pillow. They lie in silence for a time, eyes locked, breathing through their mouths. Héloïse’s fingers draw soft, soothing patterns below Marianne’s breast. She moves forward after a few moments, breaks the silence. 

“And, now that you’ve won, what is it that you desire of me?”

Marianne considers, mind still foggy. 

“I believe I have received what I desire already,” she mumbles.

Héloïse grins widely and Marianne feels warmth pulse under her skin again, as she reaches forward to pull Marianne’s hips closer to hers. 

“Indulge me.”

Marianne closes her eyes for an instant in order to compose herself, breathes through her nose. She knows what she wants to ask but feels apprehension tug at the corners of her mind. 

“There is something; something new to me. Something I have thought of often, especially since my arrival here, but never tried.”

Héloïse’s blinks heavily, her chin raises slightly.  
“Yes?” She swallows.

Marianne leans closer, kisses the corner of her mouth, whispers “I very much desire to know what you taste like Héloïse.”

Héloïse breathes sharply through her teeth, and Marianne does not miss the involuntary flex of her hip beneath her hand.

“You mean- I did not know one could-“ Héloïse clenches her eyes shut. When she opens them Marianne’s breath catches at the dark dilation of her pupils.

“You would wish to put your mouth on me. In place of your hands.” Her voice shakes slightly but she is steadfast. Marianne brushes her knuckles across the swell of her cheek. 

“Only if that is something you would wish as well.”

Héloïse bites her lip, eyes blazing, breathes out her answer with little hesitation. 

“Yes.”

Marianne’s heart leaps. She brings her fingers to Héloïse’s collarbone. 

“You are certain?”

Héloïse pushes forward, seeking to connect their mouths, but Marianne’s hand pushes lightly back against her.

“You must say it, aloud. Please, I must hear you say it.”

Héloïse swallows audibly, flushes, the very tips of her ears growing red. Her voice is quiet but sure, answer exhaled in a half sigh.

“I want you, Marianne.” She leans forward again, Marianne’s hand no longer an impediment, and their lips brush as she whispers: “I want to feel your mouth upon me.”

Marianne whimpers, presses their lips together in a hard kiss. She is aflame, burning with the heat she feels as Héloïse opens her mouth, tongue slipping slick against hers. She rolls them so Héloïse is under her body, legs falling apart already to frame Marianne’s hips. Héloïse bites softly at her lip and Marianne’s hips jolt forward, a moan spilling from both of their mouths. She cannot wait any longer.

Marianne presses hot, open mouthed kisses down under Héloïse’s jaw, across her shoulder. She reaches down for Héloïse’s hand, brings their interlocked fingers up over the other woman’s head, bends her mouth to bite softly at the pale skin of her underarm. Héloïse lets out a sharp gasp at this, hips jolting up and Marianne can feel just how wet she is against her stomach.

She continues downwards with purposeful speed, stopping to wrap her lips around one of Héloïse’s nipples (this she has done before, with evidently pleasurable results) before licking into the divot at the base of her sternum.  
She slows as she reaches Héloïse’s hips, shuffling further down to lie between her legs. Héloïse’s breath is coming sharp and fast now, abdomen clenching with small tremors as Marianne drags her teeth against the prow of her hipbone. She can feel Héloïse shaking already.

She wraps her arms up around the cradle of Héloïse’s hips, presses her mouth to the inside of her thigh. Héloïse is rigid, fists clenched against her own thighs. Marianne slides her open palm up across the smooth skin of Héloïse’s stomach.

“Give me your hand.”

Héloïse bites her lip, brow furrowed, her eyes closed. She complies, gripping Marianne’s fingers hard.

“Look at me.”

Héloïse opens her eyes.

“You will stop me, if it does not please you?”

Héloïse is nodding quickly before she even finishes the sentence. 

“Yes, I will. Marianne, please.”

All trace of the earlier Héloïse, the brazen Héloïse who had challenged, teased, brought Marianne to the edge and back has gone. The woman before her, beneath her, is fully vulnerable, a tinge of nervousness in the way she bites her lip. 

But Héloïse is also glowing. Her lips are parted, her skin is flushed, her golden hair falls bright around her shoulders in the now fully risen sun. Her eyes are as dark as Marianne has ever seen them.

“Please,” she breathes out her plea once more, the barest exhale.

Marianne swallows down a moan, shifts to bring her lips down to the inside of Héloïse’s knee. Here, Héloïse glows as well, the fine golden hairs that grow on her legs and thighs lit by the soft light. She is the most beautiful thing Marianne has ever seen.

Marianne presses a kiss to her kneecap, tongue lingering against a faint scar she finds there, before moving her mouth to run her tongue slowly up the inside of Héloïse’s thigh. She licks higher still to where the hair begins to grow thicker, darker. She can smell Héloïse and feels her heart leap at the thought.

Héloïse is so still, has not made a sound, and Marianne raises her gaze, hoping to affirm one final time that her attentions are welcomed. The sight she finds takes her breath away. Héloïse’s skin is flushed, nipples peaked and breasts moving rapidly up and down as she regards Marianne. 

After a long moment, Héloïse moves, fingertips grazing softly against Marianne’s cheek, bites her lip, nods once. Marianne bends her head to meet her.

One long stroke of her tongue and the effect is instantaneous. Héloïse’s abdomen clenches, hard, and the fingers against her face fly to the back of Marianne’s neck. Marianne stills, lips pressed against Héloïse, to allow them both time to adjust to the action. Héloïse’s taste is heady, fills her mouth, her nose her mind with pleasure as she licks again, slow and broad along the length of the woman beneath her. 

She begins a steady pattern, exploring and discovering pressure, location, tempo and the effects they have. Héloïse is no longer silent, no longer still. The hand gripping Marianne’s trembles, her head falls back, neck straining and Marianne wishes she could press her mouth to both places simultaneously, feel the wetness against her tongue while simultaneously feeling Héloïse’s heartbeat in her throat.

Without thinking, Marianne seals her lips against Héloïse, searching for more of her taste, more of the heat below her mouth. At this, Héloïse lets out a strained sound, something urgent and trembling that Marianne has never heard her make. She has seen and heard Héloïse’s pleasure before but never like this. This sound forces a moan from her own throat, pushing helplessly out against Héloïse’s core. She repeats the action.

Héloïse is writhing beneath her, those desperate sounds falling from her lips with each swipe of Marianne’s tongue. Her hand hovers lightly against the crown of Marianne’s head, fingers clenching involuntarily. Pushing for that final loss of control, Marianne alternates lips and tongue, varying pressure against Héloïse. She can feel the tight stutter of her hips beneath her hands, can feel Héloïse rocking blindly up against her mouth.

Marianne pushes her tongue lower and Héloïse’s fist clenches in her hair, involuntarily pulling her mouth up and off of her body, hips arcing up into emptiness for an instant. The sound that falls from her mouth when Marianne returns to her body is pure want. Marianne moves her tongue with purpose, aware of the pressure gathering again between her own legs and grinds her hips down into the bed.

Héloïse’s chest heaves with each shallow breath, mouth open and wet, brows tightly furrowed. Once, twice more Marianne circles her tongue against her, sucks lightly. Héloïse falls.

Her body bows sharply, a high, needful sound gasped out into the quiet room. Marianne moans with her, against her, into her, continuing the press of lips and tongue until she feels Héloïse begin to shake with sensitivity.

It is arduous to pull her mouth away from the soft flesh beneath her. She lingers, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the crease of Héloïse’s thigh, the top of her mound, the opposite hipbone. She raises her head. Héloïse is trembling with aftershocks, one arm over her face. Marianne moves her lips higher, presses kisses and soft bites back up Héloïse’s body. She licks softly at Héloïse’s neck, reveling in the salted taste she finds there, and turns her face gently to look at her. Héloïse’s eyes are damp and heavy-lidded as she meets Marianne’s gaze, her hand trembles slightly as she brings her fingers to Marianne’s lips. Marianne presses as kiss to her finger, bites softly at the pad.

“How do you feel?”

Héloïse pushes out a heavy breath.  
“Alive.” 

She reaches to bring their lips together, stopping Marianne from pulling her mouth back. She had thought Héloïse might shy away but she feels how eagerly she licks into her mouth, moaning as her own taste meets her tongue. They kiss, heavy and thick for a moment before Héloïse breaks away again. 

“I feel as though I am living.”

Marianne kisses her once more and buries her face in Héloïse’s neck, arm secure around her waist. A thought occurs to her as she begins to feel Héloïse’s breath even out. 

“Well,” she mumbles against Héloïse’s skin, “Sophie definitely will have heard that.” 

Héloïse’s laughs beneath her. 

“Yes, how will we ever be able to look her in the eye again?” 

Marianne grimaces. 

Héloïse’s hand tangles in the hair at her nape before continuing. 

“Thankfully, since it is Thursday, she is already at the markets, and will likely remain occupied for quite some time yet.” 

Marianne feels laughter rise in her own throat. 

“And you did not wish to tell me this earlier?”

Héloïse’s smile is full of mischief as she rolls Marianne on to her back. 

“And miss that extraordinary display of control you gave? Never.”


End file.
